


Teamwork

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 11:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto wants to go to the arcade, but Noctis has to finish his chores first. Prompto helps.





	Teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He has to knock three times and send a text before Noctis finally answers the door, but that’s no big surprise—popping in on the prince of Lucis is always a gamble. At least Prompto knows it’s a weekend and Noctis’ shouldn’t have any major royal duties scheduled, though who knows what Noctis’ private university classes are like, and Ignis is always throwing in more appointments. Prompto’s relieved when the door finally swings open, Noctis’ typically disheveled face appearing on the other side. Even though it’s still early in the evening, Noctis looks one yawn away from sleep. His hair’s a mess, one sock’s missing, and it looks like dust bunnies are clinging to his baggy shirt. Prompto smiles with enough energy for both of them and chirps, “Arcade? _Pleeease?_ ”

“Now?” Noctis grunts, even though Prompto knows Noctis is _always_ dying to get out. Prompto nods vigorously. 

“Yup! I’ve been waiting all week—I thought college would kill me, but throw in the new job, and my soul’s almost gone! I need some fun, like, yesterday.”

A grin twitches at the corner of Noctis’ pink lips. Prompto knows he wants to. Prompto hopes he’ll give in. But then Noctis slumps back and sighs, “Shit, I can’t. Sorry, dude. Too much to do.”

Prompto resists wilting in favour of pressing, “Aw, c’mon! What’s on your list? Maybe I can help, and then we’ll get done twice as fast and you’ll have time to play? Pretty please?”

Gladiolus or Ignis would scoff and send him packing, but Noctis looks amenable. He stalls for a minute before slowly answering, “Well... it’s just a bunch of routine chores, but Ignis assigns some pretty grueling ones...”

“Don’t care,” Prompto insists, already saluting. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it!”

Noctis snorts, but his smile says he’s definitely game. He steps back from the door, leaving Prompto room to shuffle in. Prompto bounces down and starts peeling off his shoes as Noctis fills him in. “Alright. I was already dusting—I know, I used to have maids to do that, but now I gotta prove _responsibility_ and all that bullshit... next is sweeping the kitchen, think you can do that? The broom’s tucked in the hall closet.”

Rising back up to his feet and shedding his jacket, Prompto nods. “Sweep kitchen, hall closet, responsibility bullshit, got it.”

“Thanks,” Noctis laughs. He gives Prompto a light pat on the back. “You’re the best, man.” 

“Gotta serve my country,” Prompto teases, which has Noctis playfully punching his arm and wandering off. There really is a dust rag out on the coffee table, which is a surprise to Prompto, because he never actually pictured Noctis doing domestic cleaning before. He wastes an extra few seconds just watching Noctis get to work and marveling in the strange and adorable sight of his beloved prince doing _chores_.

Then he remembers they have better things to do, and he starts fishing through the closet. The broom’s not hard to find, as most of it’s meticulously organized—Prompto can tell that Ignis has been around recently. Fortunately, the kitchenette area of Noctis’ apartment isn’t large at all. He finishes that and goes through the rest of the apartment while Noctis is still wiping down furniture and shelves. Prompto doesn’t say anything aloud, but privately, he’s impressed to see that Noctis is actually doing a pretty thorough job. Clearly, he expects Ignis to check on it at some point. That or His Majesty’s scheduled for a visit, but somehow Prompto doesn’t think Noctis would put so much effort in for that. 

Eventually, Prompto finishes sweeping down the entire main area. Wondering if he should move on to Noctis’ bedroom and the bathroom but also wanting to hurry up and finish, he stops to check in with Noctis, “Alright, next?”

“You done?” Noctis asks, glancing towards the kitchenette.

Prompto proclaims, “Spotless.”

“Awesome, thanks.” Standing up on the couch to reach the top of a lampshade, Noctis clambers down and concludes, “Alright, that’s most of the cleaning. Then I just have some homework to finish up, and can you fuck Ignis?”

Prompto salutes again, promising, “Sure thing, buddy—” But then he does a full-body double take when Noctis’ words actually sink in.

He definitely heard wrong. He blinks at Noctis, waiting for clarification.

Noctis just gestures vaguely at the bedroom and tosses his dirty rag onto the table. “Do it really hard, okay? He likes it rough and unpredictable.” Prompto has to move aside when Noctis brushes past him, meandering over to the dining table where various books and papers are already scattered about. “I already did it once, but it takes a good two or three rounds to really satisfy him.”

As Noctis plops down into his dining chair, attention all over his homework instead of his thunderstruck friend, Prompto hoarsely says, “You’re fucking with me.”

Noctis finally looks up at him. The hysterical laughter that Prompto’s expecting doesn’t come. Dead serious, Noctis tells him, “No, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m not mad; I get it, he’s super hot. And now’s a good time to start—if you wanna go out, you’re either gonna have to give him the last round he wants or wait until I can get it up again.”

Prompto’s entire body is numb with shock. His mind’s a whirlwind of horror, shame, and hope. Of _course_ he’s looked at Ignis. The man’s a walking wet dream—clever, handsome, suave, charming, and bizarrely nice to Prompto even though Prompto’s a nobody. But Ignis is also quite obviously the prince’s royal arm candy, and Prompto would _never_ have tried to weasel in on that. He values both Ignis and Noctis too much. 

It’s embarrassing to think that Noctis saw right through him. But it’s hard to be embarrassed when the bulk of his brain is processing that best friend serving Ignis up on a silver platter. 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times without getting anything out. Noctis turns back to his homework. Prompto, still stunned, walks woodenly towards the bedroom. His body’s half moving on its own. He still expects Gladiolus and Ignis to jump out and shout _gotcha_ when he twists the handle, but instead, the bedroom’s silent.

The light’s off and the curtains are drawn, but the bedside lamp illuminates Ignis’ long body, strewn across Noctis’ unmade mattress. All of Ignis’ dapper clothing has been stripped away—his tight-fitting suit, his high socks, the garters that hold them up, which Prompto’s only seen twice but was haunted by both times. Even Ignis’ necklace is gone, instead sitting on the nightstand in a pool around his glasses. His normally slicked-up hair is a sweaty mess across his glistening forehead, and his clouded eyes open halfway to flicker across the room. He shifts his arms out of the way to see the intruder, his wrists loosely bound above him and secured to the headboard with Noctis’ old school tie. Every beautiful bit of him is on display.

When Prompto was little, he assumed he was straight. Then he met Noctis and Noctis’ retainers, and he realized he was definitely bisexual. Looking at Ignis now, he’s never felt gayer.

Ignis arches a brow. He’s obviously surprised, though he looks too bliss-ridden to properly react to it. Prompto figures he should probably shut the door and leave, except the way Ignis is lying on his side, Prompto can see the taut globes of his ass resting on one another, and that makes it impossible to go anywhere. There’s even a wet trail of white leaking down his thighs. Prompto’s sure his cheeks are red.

After that first moment, Ignis’ surprise seems to melt away, and a languid smile stretches over his handsome face. He murmurs against the pillow, “I’d wondered when Noct would rope you in.”

Prompto opens his mouth again but still can’t manage anything. He knew Ignis and Noctis were probably intimate. But he had no idea they were this... kinky.

The important thing is that Ignis doesn’t seem too put off. He doesn’t even protest as Prompto fumbles to close the door behind himself. He stumbles towards the bed, half tripping over his own feet. Ignis shifts more onto his front, showing off more of his dimpled ass, and says, “I’m already well prepared.” His cheeks visibly clench and release as though to show it. His crack’s hiding his hole, and it’s all Prompto can do not to reach down and pry it open. Ignis idly drawls, “While I don’t mind this in particular, I do hope Noctis didn’t pass off _all_ his chores on you.”

Prompto shakes his head and somehow regains speech. “No, he, uh... he dusted and... he’s doing his homework... but I wanted to go out, and...” He just sort of trails off, because it’s too weird to add ‘he said I could fuck you.’

Ignis finishes instead, “And he didn’t want to leave me unsatisfied. How considerate. And now I don’t even have to wait out his refractory period...” Ignis’ eyes trail down Prompto’s body as he talks. When that burning gaze lands on Prompto’s crotch, Prompto realizes he’s been palming himself through his jeans. There’s an obvious tent there. A second of staring, and Ignis’ tongue slips out to trace his lips. Prompto nearly creams himself. 

The door clicks open behind him. Prompto jumps. But it’s just Noctis, wandering in to toss something onto the bed. Prompto looks down at the condom, then up at the smirk Noctis is failing to hide. “Forgot you’ll need that, and wasn’t sure if you had one on you. Sorry, but only I get to take him raw. ‘Til we get you tested, anyway.” Noctis has the audacity to wink. Prompto could kill him. Or make out with him. Either of the two. Ignis doesn’t say a word about the exchange. And then Noctis is leaving as slickly as he came, except he leaves the door open. Prompto’s... sort of mortified. 

Ignis’ lilting voice penetrates his crazed mind. “Of course, if you aren’t interested...”

 _That_ has Prompto jolting to life. He squeaks, “Nope!” and scrambles forward, grabbing at the condom. He fiddles off the wrapper before realizing his pants are still on. And then he dives into another ocean of fear because he’s going to have to take his pants off in front of his dream date. Except he’ll totally have to if he wants in on this. And he so wants in. _So_ bad. But nobody’s seen him naked since his parents when he was a kid. He was always careful in the school locker rooms, slinking off into stalls. He worked hard for his body, but he still remembers hating it, and he wasn’t expecting...

But Ignis is naked. _Totally_ naked. When he shifts one smooth thigh aside, Prompto can see the long arch of his cock nestled against the sheets, semi-hard and lightly smeared in cum. Prompto can’t help but wonder if Ignis already came and expects multiple orgasms, or if it takes multiple rounds to make him come at all, and maybe the mess is Noctis’. 

Prompto kind of wants a threesome, but would also probably faint if that were on the table. Maybe it’s better to start with Ignis. Ignis won’t judge him. Ignis will go easy on him. Actually, Ignis is tied to the headboard, so Ignis definitely won’t hurt him.

The real nightmare is the thought of hurting or disappointing Ignis, but it’s gotten to the point where Prompto’s so hard that he can’t connect the paranoid dots anymore. His frantic thoughts are getting harder to grasp at, and his dick’s getting louder. He finally just shuts his mind down and listens to his penis. He drops the condom back on the bed and wrenches off his belt. Ignis patiently waits while Prompto awkwardly pushes out of his skinny jeans and briefs all at once, leaving no room to be self-conscious. He can worry about that later. At the moment, all he wants to think about is how insanely _sexy_ Ignis looks. And probably feels. 

“Roll the condom on,” Ignis coolly prompts. Blushing up a storm, Prompto hurriedly obeys. He’s totally flustered and thinks he must be awful to watch, but he manages, and Ignis doesn’t make any complaints. When Prompto looks up again, Ignis sticks his rear out and bids, “I’d appreciate a finger or two, but otherwise I should still be fairly loose and wet.” 

Prompto shouldn’t be surprised by the ease with which Ignis discusses such personal matters. Of course Ignis would be unshakably smooth. Prompto still can’t help wondering if maybe Ignis has thought of this too, inviting Prompto along, and has prepared for it. He hopes so.

He climbs onto the bed, and his body does the rest. It’s like his mind switches off and his libido takes him into auto-pilot. It’s a ride he definitely wants to be on. He shuffles over to Ignis’ ass, considering straddling it, but then Ignis spreads his thighs wide, making room for Prompto to settle down between them. Sitting there rests his hard cock between Ignis’ cheeks, and even through the condom, it feels so _soft_. He drags his cock over Ignis’ crack a few times, mesmerized by the view. Then he reminds himself he has to make sure Ignis is ready. He’s never gone all the way before, but at least he’s watched enough porn. 

He’s glad he keeps his nails blunt. He reaches two shaking hands out to take a handful of Ignis’ ass, pausing to moan at the sight of it—his fingers digging into Ignis’ warm flesh. Then he worms his thumbs into Ignis’ crack and gently pries it open. The flushed, puckered hole between is drenched with clear and white liquid, small but not entirely clamped up, twitching under Prompto’s gaze. The fact that Noctis’ cum is obviously mixed in with the lube should probably turn him off, but Prompto doesn’t have a single brain cell left to worry about hygiene. If anything, the idea of taking Noctis’ sloppy seconds only turns him on more. It isn’t until Ignis mutters, “Prompto...” that Prompto dares to press his finger against the opening. 

He doesn’t know how slowly he should go, but as soon as he’s poked his fingertip inside, he’s sinking deeper. Ignis’ velvety insides seem to be sucking him in, and Prompto has zero will to resist. He groans as he slides his way right to the knuckle, only to crook his finger and start feeling around. Ignis’ rear twitches beneath him, and Ignis’ breath hitches, his strained voice guiding, “Another...”

Prompto withdraws to insert a second finger. It’s not as tight as he feared, and Ignis doesn’t seem to have any problem with Prompto working him open. Another finger, and Ignis groans, “Prompto, _please_...”

Hearing Ignis moan his name has Prompto’s brain temporarily short-circuiting. But he still manages to withdraw his fingers and line up his cock. He’s heard peers laugh about missing on the first thrust, and he’s already worried about messing up, so he holds onto his base and presses against Ignis’ hole to be sure he’s going to make it. It doesn’t look like Ignis is big enough to take him, even though Prompto’s never thought his cock was particularly big. He always figured Noctis would be bigger. Gladiolus is probably _huge_. And he got a glimpse of how long and mouth-watering Ignis’ is, though now it’s trapped against the mattress. Prompto can just barely see Ignis’ shaved balls flattened against the sheets. It’s all too hot; he’s never going to last.

“Hard, please,” Ignis murmurs, braced in the pillow. He’s looking back over his shoulder, his chest flat along the bed and his rear arched up to Prompto. “As hard as you can.”

Prompto swallows and nods. He doesn’t know if he can do that, but he’s definitely going to try. 

He shoves in with one thrust, makes it halfway, then has to stop to process and practically buckles over. He catches himself on either side of Ignis’ body before he hits Ignis’ sweat-slicked back, his arms trembling and his cock in nirvana. He knew it would feel good, but it’s _so good_ —Ignis is pure _heat_ and so _tight_ , and he’s not even balls-deep yet. He looks down at Ignis’ face, the way Ignis is biting his bottom lip and his fingers are twisted in the sheets. Prompto reminds himself what Ignis said. Ignis needs _more_. Prompto has to give it to him.

Prompto sucks in a breath and thrusts forward again, cuts off to groan, and starts rocking his hips in short, erratic bursts, driving deeper each time and wracking little hisses out of Ignis. Every stuttering sound that Ignis makes, no matter how quiet or restrained, makes Prompto harder. Looking at Ignis so close up is a dream come true. Ignis even _smells_ delicious—the normal rich cologne tainted with the musky stench of sex. Best of all is the way he feels. Prompto wants to kiss him but doesn’t know the rules. 

Prompto settles for draping down and burying his face in Ignis’ damp shoulder, sure to keep his weight off of Ignis’ body. Then he lets his hips go to town, bucking into Ignis with the uncontrolled, feverish rhythm of an animal. He can’t do any better. Every magnificent thrust is an exercise in control—he’s desperate not to come too soon; he needs to _savour_ it, needs to memorize every little moment, and needs to get Ignis off. He wonders if he should reach under and touch Ignis’ cock—he wants to—but Ignis’ didn’t say to do that, and he knows his thrusts are already driving Ignis hard against the bed. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s what Ignis wants. Maybe that’s Ignis’ _thing_ —working hard all week, then luxuriating in his prince’s bed for hours on end, letting his orgasm be a slowly dwindling burn that drives him to the edge of sanity.

That’s _so hot._ Ignis is so hot. Noctis is too. Prompto wishes he weren’t wearing a condom so he could feel Noctis’ cum clinging to his cock. He moans into Ignis’ shoulder and wraps his arms around Ignis’ middle, squirming beneath him and the mattress, and uses it to squeeze him tighter—fuck him deeper. Prompto’s completely lost in it. He wants to fuck Ignis forever and ever—

Except he comes way too soon, crying out against Ignis’ skin and filling up the condom. He fucks Ignis through it, pretending he’s grinding his seed into Ignis’ coated insides. Without thinking, his hand snakes down to Ignis’ cock, and he blindly feels up the long shaft and starts squeezing it with each thrust of his dick. Ignis’ voice breaks. Even when Prompto’s orgasm piques and starts slowly dwindling down, he massages Ignis’ hard cock. Then he feels it tense and twitch, and a warm liquid spills over his fingers. He groans and keeps playing with it, unwilling to let go. 

He stays buried in Ignis’ ass. He stops thrusting and just lies there, heavy and spent, holding onto Ignis for dear life. He’s in a state of blissful shock he doesn’t want to wake from. 

That doesn’t last long enough. Ignis, panting heavily beneath him, doesn’t move or speak. But Prompto hears footsteps coming, and he’s vaguely aware of Noctis crossing his peripherals. Something sets down on the nightstand. Prompto looks up to see a glass of water—probably for Ignis. 

“I finished,” Noctis says, maybe at Prompto, but his eyes are on Ignis, clouded with affection. He bends forward to lightly stroke through Ignis’ hair, then bends to kiss him, which has Prompto’s flagging cock twitching just to watch. When Noctis has finished filling Ignis’ whole mouth with his tongue, he reaches up to deftly untie the bindings. He carefully inspects Ignis’ wrists afterwards. Then he gently lowers them to the bed and pets Ignis some more. 

To both of them, Noctis murmurs, “It looks like you had fun. I should stay to watch next time.” He’s grinning slyly—Prompto hopes he’s serious. Better yet, Prompto hopes Noctis _joins_. But if it stays with just satisfying Ignis, Prompto could live with that too. 

Noctis swats at Prompto’s ass, which has him yelping. “Come on, bud. Arcade time.”

Prompto... totally forgot about that. Ignis wriggles his rear, clenching down around Prompto’s satiated dick, and it reminds Prompto to pull out. It’s a vague relief to be free of the pressure, but definitely disappointing to lose the heat. Ignis throws him a tired, “Thank you.”

Prompto mutters a strained, “Uh, you’re welcome.” Noctis snorts at him. Then Noctis wanders back out of the room, leaving Prompto alone to peel off the condom and fumble his pants back on. He doesn’t feel at all presentable, but Ignis smiles at him like he looks fine. 

He zombie-walks back into the living room. Noctis looks all ready to go. “So, do we just...?”

“Leave him?” Noctis fills in. “Yeah, he’ll want to rest now. I’ll cuddle with him a bit when we get back, and then he’ll be back to our rigid mother hen in the morning. ...You can stay for the cuddling, if you want. Just make sure you didn’t leave any condoms or clothes on the floor when he wakes up tomorrow.”

Prompto blinks. “Uh... yeah. Okay.” Definitely. Totally. Noctis seems to be trying very hard to hide a smirk, but he’s failing. 

He pats Prompto on the shoulder and heads for the door. Prompto, like in all things, follows.


End file.
